


in your shoes

by crookedspoon



Series: Exchange Fics [73]
Category: Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: Bodyswap, Crack, F/M, POV Rick Flag, Pole Dancing, Strip Tease, Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:48:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22605733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedspoon/pseuds/crookedspoon
Summary: When he opened his eyes, he wasn't greeted with the sight of a confused Harley - or maybe he was, but it was a Harley wearing the mug he saw in the mirror every morning... and the rest of his body.
Relationships: Rick Flag/Harleen Quinzel
Series: Exchange Fics [73]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/51139
Comments: 6
Kudos: 19
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	in your shoes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hecate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hecate/gifts).



They're not entirely sure how it happened, but it must have had to do with witches. Because Rick didn't have enough bad luck with witches already. At this point, it's got to qualify as a theme in his life: no luck with the ladies, especially those with magical abilities. Bad luck, even.

If he had time to wonder about such things, he might have asked himself if he's on some intergalactic witches' shit list or something. But he doesn't have time to wonder about these things; he's too busy saving the Earth from intergalactic witch intervention.

Last time, Harley helped. After she made it worse, as is her habit of doing.

They've been running into each other from time to time, either on secret Squad business (that Harley for some reason treats as family reunions, getting all chummy with Croc and the rest; well, everyone except Boomer, which Rick can relate to) or because he's been tasked to clean up after her if she's started another gang war or something. Ideally, he's supposed to apprehend her, but try as he might, he can't stand to see her upset. Which she is every time he does catch her.

It wasn't always that way. He used to stand for something, and he used to be able to stand up to Quinn. But after the first time she helped him take down a mean foe with fewer casualties than he'd anticipated (that is to say none, which did impress him, to say the least), he owed her a favor and may or may not have let her slip when his orders were to take her in.

It has sort of become a pattern between them. Or a game of cat and mouse. Although he can no longer say for certain who's the cat and who's the mouse. She gives him a chase, then turns around and helps him out, leaving him no choice but to let her out of his grasp again.

And every time she walks away, she teases him a little more. The first time, it was something between a salute and a wave, the second it was a wink, then a blown kiss. They'd moved on to smoothing down his uniform before she skips off and by that time, he must have been snared already. He found himself flirting back. Always a bad idea with these criminal types. But what can Rick say? He likes living on the edge, where life is interesting.

After the last time they met, he had the impression he could feel her hand warming his cheek even days later and he vowed he'd test his luck when they ran into each other next.

But as his luck would have it, he _also_ ran into a witch who didn't seem to like him all that much. Or Harley, for that matter. Which made Rick feel a little better about himself. At least he wasn't singled out because he's a guy or something like that.

Anyway. The point of the story is that the witch cursed him. Or both of them.

He didn't feel much different at first or even much later. By the time the witch was carted off to whatever facility would be strong enough to hold her - and he surely hoped one existed - he'd all but forgotten about the spell she'd presumably cast on him.

It was time to say goodbye to Quinn before anyone got the idea of slapping a pair of handcuffs on her wrists as well. He was risking his job - and the great retirement package that came with it (probably because no one expected him to be around to collect it) - and probably even his freedom to meet with her on the sly like that, but there are some things in life you have to take chances on.

Harley was one of those. 

She was waiting for him around a corner of where the action was. He approached her from the other side of the block, making sure he was not followed. 

Her back was to him and her attention seemed to be on the street beyond the corner, but she spun around to attack him before he got within ten feet of her.

"Didn't have to wait for me, Quinn," he said as he caught her blow. "One of these days I might disappoint you and take you in even though you helped me out."

"Maybe that's why I stay. To see for myself. I won't believe it until you do it, after all."

"Then see if I let you go this time."

He slung his arm around her waist and pulled her closer. The fact that she didn't struggle was a good sign. It gave him hope that he hadn't misread her cues.

She giggled as though she could read his thoughts and kissed him before he could lean down to do the same to her. It was electrifying. Literally. The moment their lips touched, it was like electricity zipped across his skin and left a tingling sensation in its wake. He became so sensitive all of a sudden that it felt like Harley's lips were scratching his.

"Holy Batman on a tricycle!" she exclaimed but it wasn't her voice at all. "Have you turned into me? And what happened to my voice?"

When he opened his eyes, he wasn't greeted with the sight of a confused Harley - or maybe he was, but it was a Harley wearing the mug he saw in the mirror every morning... and the rest of his body. In shock, his eyes flicked down to his own body to discover breasts instead of his tactical gear.

Had they switched bodies?

His eyes flicked back up to hers again to find her as bewildered as he was, and damn, he never really thought of himself as tall before, but from her perspective everything seemed so different, especially since she's not wearing heels today to make up for the height difference.

"Well, this is a development," he said and his voice sounded way too high-pitched in his ears. This would take some getting used to. Except, he should probably not get used to this situation - he needs to find a way out of it.

"So, what do we do now?" she asked. "I mean, I can think of a few fun things we can do while in each other's bodies, but eventually I'd like mine back. Undamaged, if possible."

"I'm one hundred per cent with you there."

He didn't want to think about what she might do with his body. Not that he had to wait long to find out.

They'd decided to pretend that he would be bringing her in - that is to say, Harley would be bringing him in, but everybody would think they were who they looked like. That way they could get close to their prisoner, the witch, and ask her how to reverse the situation. If Rick was lucky, he might even be thrown into the same transport as her. The only thing he worried about was Harley's acting skills. She could flirt and feign interest very well, but she was likely not going to pass as him for long. Either that, or she was going to ruin his reputation for all time.

Knowing Harley, it would be the latter.

And it didn't take long for him to be proven right.

"Does anyone have music?" she asked out of the blue. She hopped to the nearest soldier who was carrying a phone with him that he offered up without protest. Harley scrolled through it, and a few moments later, she "ooh"ed excitedly, which sounded strange coming out of his mouth.

A familiar beat started, one he hadn't heard in nearly two decades and that he hadn't expected to hear anytime soon. Certainly not in this context.

He had a bad feeling about what she was going to do next.

Harley strutted to the nearest street sign that was lit by a lantern closeby, lifting her heels to her buttocks as she did so, which looked utterly ridiculous if you thought it was Rick doing the strutting.

When she reached the sign, she swung her hips, back to them, and crouched low, opening and closing her legs, before standing up again, with what was probably supposed to be a coquettish look over her shoulder, but which looked more menacing coming from Rick's face.

After she'd completed a circuit around the pole of the street sign, she began stripping off Rick's tactical vest to the music. At this point the boys started glancing at each other in bewilderment, unsure of what to do. Was this a prank? Should they tell "Rick" to stop? Would they offend him if they did? He was still their superior officer.

In the end, none of them moved. (Neither did Rick.) They just stood rooted to the spot, mute in the face of this surreal moment, and watched as Harley stripped item after item of Rick's clothing. By the time his undershirt flew to the kerb, she was actually drawing encouraging claps and appreciative whistles. She teased the guys with a flash of Rick's underwear and a sound of disappointment went through the onlookers when she didn't pull her pants down. Maybe she didn't want to bother with the boots. Either way, Rick was thankful for even that small mercy.

(He did, however, feel heat pooling low in his gut to think Harley was doing a striptease out in the open like that, and it was strange getting aroused in a body not his own. He tried to think cleaner thoughts.)

She continued to show off by doing a handstand and wrapping her legs around the pole, then pulling herself up until she could grasp the pole in her hands. She did so once she dusted her hands off to enthusiastic applause. Next, she braced one of her legs against the pole for leverage and spread the other leg out so it was parallel to the ground. After spacing out her grip a little more, she stretched the other leg out long as well, so her body would be like a flag in a stiff breeze. The boys went wild.

Rick hid his own face behind a hand, as if not having to witness this would make it unhappen. That would be his preferred outcome, which was not likely to happen. If he still had his own body, he'd be rushing forward and putting a stop to it by now, but he was in Harley's body and thus considered a prisoner. No one would listen if she suddenly tried calling the shots. 

Then again, he could probably clear the whole thing up by telling them what happened, but he was curiously protective of the knowledge that it was Harley doing that number.

Once the _Lady Marmalade_ song was over, Harley bowed to the adulation of the onlookers as gracefully as any actor, and threw kisses to them. His men rushed up to her to clap her back and shake her hand, and although she'd been freely showing off "her" body during the show, Rick did notice her flinch slightly as they crowded around her to punch her shoulder in a gesture of camaraderie. He guessed there was not as much camaraderie to be had among villains, even if they worked together, and much less from the Joker.

She must have noticed him trying to ignore her, because the next thing he knew was her cartwheeling over to him and taking his hand in hers to press a kiss to his knuckles. Wolf whistles followed on her heels, and he didn't know if they were for her gymnastics or her chivalrous gesture.

"Milady," she said. "I noticed you looking away. Did you not enjoy the show?" 

"Not here," he hissed. From the corner of his eyes, he noticed the others readying another transport for Harley, trying to appear as though they were not eavesdropping.

"Don't be such a booby." Her elated expression slipped into a pout and Rick was almost certain his face muscles were going to be sore the next day - even moreso than the rest of his body - because he himself hadn't shown this much emotion in decades. It surprised him that his face remembered how it was done. 

Again, as if reading his thoughts, she added, "you really oughtta spend more time doing stretches. Your body is so stiff, I can barely move in it."

Now that she brought it up, he became aware of how her body felt for the first time. He'd considered himself pretty nimble before, but she felt almost like liquid - light and malleable, but with a core of strength that would allow him to do a flip on the spot.

"You didn't have to put on a display like that," he said and cleared his throat.

"Few of the things worth doing are things you _have_ to do."

"What we have to do, is find a way to reverse this situation."

 _"Or,"_ she said conspiratorially, "we could find ourselves a quiet spot and have some more fun experiments with our new bodies. I bet you're just _dying_ to know how flexible mine is. How often do you get to try out yourself, huh?"

"You're incorrigible." He shook his head. "Now lock me up with the witch before the others are wondering why we're talking so long."

"Oh, _c'mon,"_ she drawled. "You saw how they were cheering us on just now - cheering _you_ on. They're not un-fun party poopers like you."

"I'll show you how fun I can be once we're both out of here, Quinn, and not a moment before."

"Ooh, is that a promise? You're making me all tingly with anticipation."

"Quinn, please. The transport."

"Is gone already, in case you hadn't noticed. Or I would have waited with my dance number until after you were securely locked up with the witch bitch."

Rick clicked his tongue. "Damn it."

"Don't be too bummed out about it. We can still get out of here with the rest of the crew. Unless you wanna ditch 'em for a few hours and regroup later at HQ. I mean, I've always wanted to know what it was like as a--"

"We're following the others," he said decisively.

"We're ready, colonel," one of the men called over as if on cue.

When Harley didn't react, Rick gave a low whistle and nodded in the direction of the vehicle that had been prepared for her.

"Oh, sure, sure. Right you are. Come along then, prisoner."

Before he had the chance to react, she heaved him up and over her shoulder like a sack.

"I can walk, you know?" he pointed out, blood rushing into his head and giving him a massive headache.

"Not taking any chances. You might run away any second, missy, and we can't have that."

Harley was having entirely too much fun with her new role. This was going to be a long trip back to HQ.


End file.
